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“Good night,” I tell him.
Vlad opens the door for me, and I step outside, glad to be rid of Nico’s company at least for a few days.
“Good night, Vlad,” I say cheerfully to the six-foot-five giant.
He nods once in reply. I gather my dress in my hands as I head inside the lobby of my apartment building. Trepidation fills me as I ride to the elevator to my floor. I wonder if Sabrina’s home. I’ve been uncertain about telling her the truth, giving myself just one more day, but I can’t delay it forever. She’s my best friend. She’s going to find out.
As it turns out, the feeling of trepidation was one of forewarning. As soon as I step through my front door, I see Sabrina’s fuzzy bunny slippers. My eyes fall shut, and I groan softly.
Fuck.
“In here, Rory,” she calls innocently from my kitchen.
I consider running away, but where would I even go? I exhale a shaky breath before stepping toward my living room. She steps out of the kitchen wearing an apron with flour covering her face. She only bakes when she’s stressed.
Double fuck.
I watch as she takes my outfit in, her expression growing confused.
“Did you attend a party?” she asks.
“Yeah.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
There’s a note of betrayal in her voice. Oh boy. She’s in for a rough ride if that’s all it takes for her to feel hurt. I feel like a horrible person. I am a horrible person for lying to her all these years.
“Holy shit, what’s with the bling?” she asks, eyes narrowing on the ring on my finger.
Damn it, why didn’t I take it off?
My mouth feels dry when I speak, “It’s… I…uh…” I falter, unable to come up with a reasonable answer.
Sabrina’s expression turns worried.
“What the hell, Rory? Did you just stutter?”
I did. It’s very unlike me. But the conversation we’re about to have falls squarely at the top of the list of things I wish I never had to do.
I take in a deep breath, looking her in the eye.
“We need to talk, Sab,” I say, my voice steady.
“Those words have never in the history of mankind been followed by anything good,” she states astutely.
“I know. It’s just…please, sit down,” I tell her, gesturing at the sofa. “And promise you won’t hate me by the end of this.”
Her blue eyes narrow, and I see the moment she decides to take this seriously. Sabrina grew up in a home with an abusive father and an absent mother. Trust has never come easily to her.
“I can’t make that promise,” she tells me.
My heart cracks at that, but I nod. “Okay, just hear me out, please?”
“Fine. Let me just get the brownies out of the oven. They should be done by now.”
She goes back to the kitchen while I sit down, fighting the urge to bite down on the inside of my cheek. It’s a nervous habit I got over a long time ago. But it sometimes comes back when my emotions are all over the place. Like right now. But I’m not a little girl anymore.
So when Sabrina returns, I put on a brave face, before finally telling her the truth. She’s only just sat down when the words leave my lips.
